I got a really nasty, really angry email this week. It was so scathing I couldn’t even finish reading it. Every time I tried I got as far as the third paragraph and then had to stop. The words were a huge confused, jumbled mess. Ranting. Allegations coming from the unseeing. My need to defend, my want to set the record straight would cry out – then without warning my own fury would bubble up fast and furious. It was all I could do to stop myself from screaming. Raving. It sucks to be misunderstood. I take it personally. Every time I would have to close the email, close my eyes, and count to ten. It took everything I had not to fire off my own nasty, angry, irrational, emotional, fiery response. Just thinking about it made me furious. Makes me spit nails even now.
When I (finally) mentioned it to a friend I was surprisingly calm. I didn’t go into details. I didn’t rant or rave. Just shrugged and said I was having a hard time swallowing a nastygram. She called it a “lump of coal, black and bitter.” At the moment we were talking I agreed. I could see the analogy. I agreed with her. Now that I have had time to process everything I think differently.
I see this, not as a lump of coal, but as a block of ice. It’s cold, cutting and crazy. For days and days I was having trouble swallowing it. Today it is melting, warmed by the passage of time and rational thought. Imagine that! I’m not angry anymore. I am disappointed the sender couldn’t have been a bit more mature in her approach. Yesterday, I wanted to ask her, Now, tell me how you really feel? Today, the ice has turned to water and has washed her words away. I no longer care what she feels. I’m ice.